w radiance. They
are giving back the light they have been absorbing from the sun all
summer.

The carpet of the newly fallen leaves looks so clean and delicate when
it first covers the paths and the highways that one almost hesitates to
walk upon it. Was it the gallant Raleigh who threw down his cloak for
Queen Elizabeth to walk upon? See what a robe the maples have thrown
down for you and me to walk upon! How one hesitates to soil it! The
summer robes of the groves and the forests--more than robes, a vital
part of themselves, the myriad living nets with which they have
captured, and through which they have absorbed, the energy of the solar
rays. What a change when the leaves are gone, and what a change when
they come again! A naked tree may be a dead tree. The dry, inert bark,
the rough, wirelike twigs change but little from summer to winter. When
the leaves come, what a transformation, what mobility, what
sensitiveness, what expression! Ten thousand delicate veined hands
reaching forth and waving a greeting to the air and light, making a
union and compact with them, like a wedding ceremony. How young the old
trees suddenly become! what suppleness and grace invest their branches!
The leaves are a touch of immortal youth. As the cambium layer beneath
the bark is the girdle of perennial youth, so the leaves are the facial
expression of the same quality. The leaves have their day and die, but
the last leaf that comes to the branch is as young as the first. The
leaves and the blossom and the fruit of the tree come and go, yet they
age not; under the magic touch of spring the miracle is repeated over
and over.

The maples perhaps undergo the most complete transformation of all the
forest trees. Their leaves fairly become luminous, as if they glowed
with inward light. In October a maple-tree before your window lights up
your room like a great lamp. Even on cloudy days its presence helps to
dispel the gloom. The elm, the oak, the beech, possess in a much less
degree that quality of luminosity, though certain species of oak at
times are rich in shades of red and bronze. The leaves of the trees just
named for the most part turn brown before they fall. The great leaves of
the sycamore assume a rich tan-color like fine leather.

The spider weaves a net out of her own vitals with which to capture her
prey, but the net is not a part of herself as the leaf is a part of the
tree. The spider repairs her damaged net, but the tree ne